Javed Jiskani Baloch
I am a cop who is always cheerful with a tailor-made smile as if I am the happiest since centuries. However, the reality is another way round. I am the saddest one, perhaps. The greatest of all ironies with me is my own apathy towards myself. Anyone can tell me his or her longest story of sorrow, but hardly anyone can hear my tales of broken heart and shattered hopes.
My dear citizen, do you think I have some additional superhuman qualities to fight with fires, bombs, storms, disasters, accidents, sabotage, crime, and terrorism. Certainly not; nor yet have I some extraordinary skills to tackle ever new situations of staggeringly diverse human life. My only strength is my passion for my work.
Despite all limits, I am always for those who find themselves in trouble. But, frankly, I do not like cries and tears nor do I tolerate dying emotions. Astonishingly, I am supposed to be emotionless entity while I am very emotional to the core. However, my job puts me to the hard test of seeing misfortunes and crudities of life from the eye very closest. A doctor can claim to see his or her patient’s whether their mind, heart, and other organs work. But hardly anyone can explain the circumstances that cause people to go astray and deviant.
I am neither a magician nor a juggler. I am a human being. I think, feel, live, and die as do others. I have mother, sisters, brothers, wife, daughters, sons and other nearest and dearest ones who look forward to me for everything one can do while living in a family and society. But my dear you would never believe that for you alone, I have courage and conviction to ignore them, to avoid them, to disappoint them and sometimes to hurt them; however, they love me, they wait for me, they pray for me, and they do a lot for me.
Nothing hurts me the way your attitude towards me does, my dear! We see each other on streets. When happy, you castigate me but when sad you pin your all hopes on me to take you out of the problem you are in. Ironically, you hardly bother for my woes. You believe that I am a second-rate human being masked with the filth of corruption and torture. Considering me a symbol of terror, trouble, agony, and fear, you have no time at all to think as to how my kids live and what the conditions of my household are.
I am living in the times when camera eye sees everything and every human eye watches screens. This cross-seeing can be called media. The industry of propaganda through the protests, rallies, long walks, walk-outs, strikes, write-ups, speeches, articles, news items, editorials, etc has gained greater currency. I am told by many in this industry that now no one can be arrested, detained, tortured and sentenced without a due process of law. Indeed, this is a very good omen. But I can not avail any of such facility to protect my rights and to redress my genuine grievances.
If I resort to the courts of law for the redressal of my grievances, the honorable courts very often refer me to my seniors, considering my complaints as irrelevant. Pathetically, my seniors hardly take my grievances seriously. Here, the game of my survival gets complicated, leaving me with no other option except to resort to the persons in political power structure with a view to getting my due. Undoubtedly, for a tiny entity, like me, everything turns the worst.
Don’t ask, please, about my health. The global health surveys regarding the average life of different people show that the police officials all over the world have the lowest life expectancy because of their being vulnerable to the direct effects of environment, odd duty hours, bad dietary habits and direct exposure to the threats of crime and terrorism. This really haunts me. Sometimes, I feel sheer scarcity of time for my own self, for my kids, for my family, and for my friends. However, I feel very good when I can be of some help to you, my dear common man. This moment makes me realize that I have performed the job of years within hours.
Nothing tires me the way cruel time retires me. I can retire from my job but never ever from my passion for service. The only thing that keeps me inspired, motivated and composed to continue with my hard job is my self-satisfaction to serve the human beings. So is the tale of my torments; so is the story of my agonies; so is the script of my fortune; so is the write-up of my profession and so is the get-up of my entity! Despite all this, I love to be a cop ever and ever again and hence always strive to be a true cop that, indeed, I am.
WRITER IS SENIOR COP AT POLICE SERVICE OF PAKISTAN